Confessions of A Casino Diamond
by OceanFire9
Summary: When you're a lively girl working in the casino under the Suite of Diamonds, performing daily for a very un-lively crowd of Oysters, you have to find your own ways to make life worthwhile - even if it means risking losing your head for it.
1. The Hand You've Been Dealt

Disclaimer: I do not own Syfy's Alice, the Syfy Alice universe, or any of the major characters - out of the whole damn deck, only this one diamond is mine; and as always, I make no profit for writing this fanfic, monetary or otherwise.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

She loved her life. She hated her life. Life was good. Life sucked. Life goes on... Such was the way of things in Wonderland.

Life at the casino was glittery, cushy, flashy, fucking empty. The Suites ran everything in the casino, obviously, just as they ran damn near everything in Wonderland. The Hearts ruled, of course - the royals, the nobles, the courtiers, and the Heart security suites. The Clubs held the religious power in Wonderland, but always taking their orders from the Hearts. The Spades were the muscle and the special forces of the operations in Wonderland, though some of them - if they were noteworthy asset-material - were transferred to the White Rabbit and worked the stealthy ops of bringing in Oysters from the world on the other side of the Looking Glass. The Diamonds ran the casino, peddled the emotion potions that were drained from the oysters to the Tea House owners, and entertained everyone in the casino - Oyster and Suite alike. In short, a Diamond's job was to make everyone happy - regardless of whether or not they had any happiness for themselves. Such was _her_ life in the casino.

Every day she donned outfits that were downright scandalous or gaudy. Once decked out in diamonds, feathers, sequins, glitter, vinyl, and even mirrors, she'd sing like a lark and shake her ass for the dull ears and eyes of the oysters. Being a Diamond suited her, she loved to entertain, sing, dance, the whole sha-bang, it came naturally to her. But she always felt like she was being wasted at the casino. All her exuberance, all her energy - wasted on creatures that barely even registered her existence as little more than a dream. Slack-jawed and glassy-eyed at best, totally unresponsive and simply zombified at worst, everything they ever felt being drained from them as they lived in waking sleep and her life, like a ghostly flame, a flickering phantom in their dreams. She couldn't wait until her shifts ended and she could get out and get to the City.

The life in the City wasn't much, either; with everyone getting high on the "tea" of oyster emotions, her inner sparkle wasn't usually in widespread demand. Most everybody was always downing shots of "happiness," "energy," "thrill," - drowning themselves in their own form of entertainment, as it were - so there wasn't much need for her talents, but it held more promise than in the casino. What she lived for in the City was her deepest secret.

The back-rooms, the holes-in-the-walls, the places where _real_ tea and coffee was served - _that_ was where she came alive. Even the Resistance needed music and joy, after all, and she was more than happy to give it. When she sang in those dark rooms, they listened and hollered "encore!" When she danced - not like the way she had to at the casino, but _really_ danced - their eyes watched her, wide with wonder. And whenever the look-out would give a shrill, warning whistle - a patrol of suites or a scarab was hovering nearby - she'd rush out of there, as inconspicuously as she could, and lay low, cursing and hating it all. It was maddening. It was wrong. All wrong.


	2. Tea & Conscience

A/N - In this chapter our protagonist gets a name - though for some reason I never really wanted her to have one... feels like it makes her of more consequence than she really is... I don't know if that makes sense, but giving her a name makes it a little easier to write the character interactions, so I went and gave her one. *shrug* On with the story! :)

She had to admit, life as a casino Diamond was pretty good, it meant that you were taken care of. You always had a warm, soft bed, and a room at the casino to come crashing to at night. You got good food to fill your gut when you were hungry, and you never had to worry about having to go dirty or smelling bad, since both your person and your clothes and things were always kept faultlessly clean. She supposed that she should be grateful for just how good she had it, compared to quite a few other people in Wonderland. _But at what cost?_ came a nagging whisper into her mind. _Every day you live and breathe a lie, you wear two faces, and neither one of them can truly be you._

Jazz music broke up her hazy thoughts. Really _loud_ jazz music. _Shit._ She groggily but no less forcefully shot out a hand to knock the stuffings out of the offending clock stereo. She let out a yawn and hurriedly hopped out of bed, forcing aside her regrets for now. Have to be up, have to get going.

Today was set up to be different from one of her usual prance-me-out-like-a-walking-light-show days, a thought which made her smile a little as she went over to her big Hollywood mirror and set about fixing herself up, running a brush through her hair. Another of her fellow Diamonds - one of the Aces - was away on his honeymoon, so she and a few others were taking turns covering for him bringing out shipments of emotion potions to the City this week, and today was her day. She was rather excited about it, actually, it gave her a chance to see the city in the morning, for once. She bounced out of her dorm and on up through the casino to the docking bay for the scarabs, where the emotions shipment, a group of Diamond Aces, and a lab technician were already assembled.

The lab technician looked up from her clipboard at the approaching Diamond diva and smiled. "Hey, Rachel!" she addressed the entertainer by name, and then asked if she was the one standing in for the AWOL Ace today, to which Rachel nodded. "Excellent!" said the techie, who's presence made Rachel curious, because she had been briefed by her Ace buddy that a lab technician only accompanied a shipment if there was an _all-new_ emotion being sent out, in order to monitor and direct its handling, and so she was interested to know what today's new shit was.

"I'll tell you on the way over," the technician promised.

xXx

At their first stop, the first thing to meet Rachel's eyes as she came out carrying a shipment box from the scarab was a handsome, scruffy face, belonging to a man in a brown leather jacket and what could only be described as an unremarkable, buff-colored cross between a fedora and a top hat - and it was a face she knew. His eyebrows went up when he saw her, clearly having not expected to see _her_ here, but he said nothing about it as they both carried on.

_"So,_ what do you fine ladies and blokes have for me today?" he inquired, rubbing his hands together like the eager opportunist he was, and the technician in accompaniment gave the hatter the run-down on the new "tea" for the market, and Rachel could only wish faintly that she had some of it for herself - just not from a bottle. _Clear conscience._

Rachel would have given anything to go to sleep at night for once without the weight of her double-life on her mind. Would have given almost anything to not feel like screaming in madness and isolation even as she sang and danced like a star on the casino stage, or feel like smashing her mirror in revulsion most times when she looked her glitzed-up reflection square in its pretty face. How could she possibly feel as pretty as she was _supposed_ to be when all she was good for in her world was worth about as much as a wind-up toy that you give to a bored child? And just once, she wanted to look into the faces of her audiences in the dark backrooms and not wonder if they were going home to a nice bed that actually belonged to them, or if they were going to be sleeping huddled in the corner of a safe house for resisters – restless for the fear of being found by Suites and beheaded for their belligerence. Rachel would have given anything to not have to look at the people of Wonderland that came crashing down from those intense highs they got on oyster potions – broken from coming down hard one too many times – and know that she was a part of that.

"Brilliant," Hatter's voice broke in on Rachel's reverie. He addressed his associate, "Dormy, get to work on a sales pitch for the new stuff." The hatter then moved his attention to Rachel, and he discreetly gestured for her to come closer. When she had gotten close enough to his satisfaction, he spoke in a voice meant for her ears only, "See you tonight, yeah?" He carefully slipped her a piece of paper, and Rachel could easily guess what she was going to find written on it.

"You got a place?" she asked, in a voice as low and quiet as his. Hatter gave a single slow nod in the affirmative, looking her directly in the eyes, waiting. Rachel's eyes flicked around the two of them for a minute, making sure that no one was paying them any attention. "I can do it, then," she told him, with the barest, briefest of nods. Hatter's mouth twitched up at the corners and he looked very pleased, and then he went back to carrying on as Rachel did the same. They said nothing further to each other until it was time for the Suites to leave and they gave a short farewell.

"What was _that_ about?" the lab technician asked Rachel, a sly smile on her face, as she indicated with a nod over her shoulder in Hatter's direction as the two women boarded the scarab for their next stop.

_Damn._

"Arrangements for tonight," Rachel answered, not untruthfully, although she _had_ hoped that no one had taken notice of her and the hatter's little exchange - no such luck.

"Is that so?" remarked the techie, the sly look still on her face. Then she looked at Rachel like she was considering something for a moment, slightly nodding her head, before she spoke again. "He's not a bad catch. You two definitely would look cute together."

Rachel had to stop herself from laughing out loud. _Her with the hatter?_ Even for Wonderland, _that_ was just an absurd idea, although it wasn't that Hatter was unattractive by any stretch of imagination - he was just the opposite, actually - it was just the fact that Rachel really couldn't see herself with him in that regard. He was just a bit too shady for her to envision moonlight and roses with. But, better to let inquiring minds think otherwise than to have anyone know the true nature of her and Hatter's relationship - which was business.

Hatter was Rachel's agent - as it were. She met him shortly after an episode where she'd cried for hours onto her boyfriend's shoulder, just venting to him about everything; how the whole system was wrong, how her whole life at the casino was a sick, shiny mockery of the life that she really wanted, but was also the only way she could even _have_ a life with the way the Queen of Hearts ran things. Much to her shock and amazement, it was then that her boyfriend revealed that he was in with the Resistance, including one very well-connected Tea House owner who could help her get some semblance of the life that she desired... for a price. The arrangement between her and Hatter was that he would use his influence and connections to get her what she craved most, _real_ stage lights with _real_ audiences (such as would be at the time and location written on the piece of paper that Hatter had slipped her), in exchange for whatever she would have earned, had she been hired and paid for the gig - not that she needed _that_ anyway, since she wanted for nothing under the Suite of Diamonds. But that was another thing about Hatter that Rachel found hard to love, there was nothing he ever did for anyone - no matter how generous - where he didn't stand to gain in some way.

xXx

Rachel was heading back to her dorm to get washed up and ready for her off-the-record performance later, when she was accosted by Sheila, a friend of hers who had a well-known habit of keeping her finger on the pulse of _all_ gossip and goings-on in the casino. "Have you heard the rumors yet?" she asked Rachel excitedly. Rachel rolled her eyes, there were _always_ rumors, and not many of them were even worth hearing, let alone true.

"No," Rachel replied dryly, "why don't you _tell_ me?" Sheila leaned in close to her friend and whispered animatedly in her ear. Rachel blinked profusely, not quite sure that she fully understood what she was hearing.

The Stone of Wonderland was missing? But how? Everyone in the higher circles of the Suite social hierarchy knew that Prince Jack Heart had taken it; but he was back from the Oysters' world now, so if he didn't have it then... who had the ring - if it wasn't Jack Heart, the White Rabbit, or the queen...?

"Rumor has it that it's an _oyster,"_ Sheila whispered. _WHAT?!_ How was that even _possible?_ Rachel was almost sure she was being bullshitted, until Sheila went on to say that the oyster had never made it to the casino, she had somehow escaped the scarab while it was en-route. It was unclear who she was or why it was that she had the Stone of Wonderland, but it _was_ abundantly clear that the Queen of Hearts was far from thrilled about it... to say nothing of how the monarch more than likely felt about what it meant for her reign if the Oyster was never found and the Stone never recovered.

Slowly, very slowly, a smile started to move Rachel's mouth into a most pleasant, up-ways curve. She began to have a feeling that tonight would be a rather good night.

A/N - Some of you that are unfamiliar with card games and certain common nicknames for certain playing cards and card combinations in a hand might miss out on a few references I've slipped in throughout this story, so I am sorry if you don't get it, but hey, if you really want to know, plus expand your interests, there's always Yahoo! and Google to help you find out. :) Brownie points to whoever _does_ get it, though!

A special shout-out to **GrangersTwin666**, your review was actually what set off the spark in my mind for Hatter's role in Rachel's life, and because of that, this chapter would not exist without you. Thank you!


	3. Worth It

So far so good.

The ride to the City had been the same as always. There was nothing odd about Suites taking leave or leisure time to the City - everyone did it, so no one cared about Rachel taking a ride over with a few of the White Rabbit's number; and scarabs were always coming and going around the clock with goods, patrols, and oysters, so she wouldn't have to worry about a ride back if she chanced a night's stay away from the casino and only got back early morning. Always before sun-up, before she was "on the clock," as she had overheard an oyster say in a fleeting moment of lucidity. She walked the streets now, up and down ladders and stairwells, broken walks, past derelict building installments with broken doors and windows. What had happened to make such a beautiful city such a shell of what it used to be? She couldn't even remember, she had been much too small a girl back then, and besides that, it hadn't happened all at once, but she knew that it was the fault of the Queen of Hearts, ultimately - everything gone wrong in Wonderland was.

Rachel came to the end of an alley-walk, looked left and right, seeing no one, she then looked behind her, still no sign of any other Suites to accost her. Casting another quick left-right glance in front of her, she ran forward to a long pole that passed up and down through several flights of city walks. Never once breaking the motion she leapt over the empty space and grasped the pole with both hands, wrapping her legs around it, and slid swiftly down for a few flights. When she got to the level where she wanted to be, she tightened her grip with her arms and legs, letting the friction stop her, and then reached out tentatively to a ladder that ran alongside the pole. Once she was on the ladder, she stepped off onto the walk, made a sharp right turn down into another alley, up two sets of stairs and then a left across a chasm-spanning stretch of walk, through a door on the right into an abandoned-looking installment, down a short set of stairs inside, turned left again into a hall and... here she was. Oftentimes, the shortest way to get somewhere in Wonderland was to take the long way 'round, and likewise, the longest way to get anywhere usually involved time spent taking short-cuts, such was logic in Wonderland.

There was a pretty good crowd here, apparently Hatter's web of connections was still as good as ever, and people were already having drinks, tea, coffee, hot chocolate and the like. Rachel sought out the manager of the hole-in-the-wall establishment to check in with them, let them know that she was here, and to discuss when she would take the floor. There was no actual stage, of course, but the tables of the patrons had been arranged so that there was a space of floor so that everyone could see the entertainment, and there were various lamps adjusted to cast light onto this space - it would have to do, Rachel sighed. She sat down at a small empty table and ordered a drink - tea, with cream and sugar, _lots_ of sugar - and took in more of her surroundings, a little surprised to find no sign of Hatter in the room, since he had indicated that he would be there, but it wasn't _too_ much of a surprise, as his mind changed with the tide of his interest. She decided that she would stop by his Shoppe later, see what he was up to, talk business and pleasantries, as he was a friend of sorts, after all.

They had one very profound thing in common, at least, they were both a couple of two-faced liars, working for the Hearts while at the same time giving help and hope to their enemies. Sometimes Rachel wondered if that would _ever_ change.

Somewhere in the place, a record stopped playing. The manager got to the center of the floor and announced tonight's in-house act, sweeping with one hand towards Rachel. _That would be my cue,_ she thought, as she took up the spot on the floor where the manager had then vacated. The manager's associate put on a different record, and Rachel just stood still and listened to it play for a few bars, getting a feel for the tune. Then she looked around at her audience, and spied one man sitting at a table close to the front of the floor with a cane. She approached him and asked softly, "May I borrow that?" pointing to the object in question. The man looked confused but when he didn't object, Rachel picked up the cane and twirled away from him a few steps, before sending the cane into a spinning arc with a snap of her wrist and then quickly catching it with the same hand. The crowd clapped and made general sounds of approval, and Rachel gave a brilliant smile as she fell into the flow of the music, turning and swaying, dancing with the cane as a prop to accent her performance.

All eyes were on her as she dipped and bent, stepped, and turned on her toes, letting the music get into her veins and make her move with it. Every move was candid, an artful and physical expression of her deepest sincerity; none of it was the bawdy, "stand here, and turn your shoulder _this_ way" routine she had to show off in the game rooms of the casino. It was a good thing that the tune was a fairly relaxed one, so she wouldn't have to do anything too energetic and end up tiring out before she'd had a good, long string of dances done. _Now _this_ is what makes life worthwhile,_ she thought. Nothing else existed, not the Queen of Hearts, not the Looking Glass, or the Suites. Right here, right now, all that mattered was the music and the motion, and the sparkle in the eyes of her audience as everyone in the room was swept up in the magic.

xXx

It _had_ been a good night, Rachel thought smilingly, as she walked in the direction of Hatter's Tea House, it had been just as she had hoped. The casino Diamond strolled at a leisurely pace, she still had a couple of hours before she had to hitch a ride back with one of the scarabs, and Hatter's Shoppe wasn't at all that far from where her gig had been. Rachel felt both exhausted and energized at the same time from the night's show - far better than any goddam high from some god-awful oyster potion, she scoffed. Although part of her knew and understood why most people did it, at the deepest level she really couldn't fathom what people were so afraid of that they would spend their whole lives chasing a quick fix, when blood, sweat, and tears lead to things that were far more satisfying and lasted longer. Just what was so worth it that made it not worth it? She wondered, as only a Wonderlander could wonder.

Rachel was just about to cross the stretch of walk that bridged over the empty space and lead right up to Hatter's door, when a soft breeze wafted into her face, bringing with it a very distinct smell. The smell of gun oil, expensive cigar smoke, and pressed linen, all wrapped up in the velvety notes of an oh-so-pricey aftershave. Rachel's eyes went wide, body stock still, her blood and insides froze, her breathing shallowed, and her heart thundered. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry... She _knew_ that smell.

* * *

A/N - I'll bet you thought for a minute there that I was gonna have her sing, huh? SURPRISE! :D No singing for this chapter, _everyone_ has the girl sing in their fics; it's been done, it's cliché, it's unoriginal, and therefore, it's not my thing. Review please! I need more inspiration!


End file.
